Trouble (BoyxBoy)
by story4you
Summary: There just had to be something wrong with Derek's hearing, because he just heard someone say that he'll have a roommate for the rest of this year. Oh, and that's gonna be somebody annoying. As if that alone wasn't enough, they're practically putting him under house arrest! But in the end, who'd have known that one god damned teenage clack-box would change him that much?
1. 1 Introducing (part 1)

**_Summary:_** _There just had to be something wrong with Derek's hearing, because he just heard someone say that he'll have a roommate for the rest of this year. Oh, and that's gonna be somebody annoying. As if that alone wasn't enough, they're practically putting him under house arrest!_

 _But in the end, who'd have known that one god damned teenage clack-box would change him that much?_

 _AU=no werewolves; Derek older than Stiles._

 **WARNING** : Will contain strong language and a lot of smut. (The whole reason it's **rated M!** )

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 **story4you  
Introducing (part 1)**

 _'Ahh... New school year, more newbies to teach the order at this school.'_ Derek smirked to himself at the thought as he walked to the entrance. Just him standing there made everybody either run or turn their backs and hide in whichever locker or dumpster they found unoccupied. _'Good. They already know the basics.'_ While wearing a death glare, he enjoyed his slow stroll through the hall. Anybody who looked at him ran as fast as possible with fear, to Derek's amusement. Letting the corners of his mouth turn a little tiny bit upwards with – shockingly enough – no evil intentions, he made his way to his classroom.

Not that he wanted to be early for class, he just had a little thing that he wouldn't miss for the world. Making only one stop at his locker to take a rucksack and going straight to the already full classroom.

Twisting the door knob and opening the door, a bucket of paint started splashing as there was heard laughter and cheering from only two people; either brave or stupid enough that dared do that. After it stopped splashing, he received endlessly surprised stares by his classmates.

Derek Wicklear was completely dry and clean, not a drop of paint on him. Now stepping over the puddle, he searched the room for the culprit. Or better said culprit _s_.

Two faces were unseen in reality, so they were freshmen. How did he know that? Well, that's for a later discussion.

"Funny." Only one word said and they erupted into laughing again, leaning onto each other so they wouldn't fall over. "Who put the prank up?" His gaze went from one to the other painfully slowly, eyeing them.

Both brown eyes and dark hair, one longer curly, the other almost completely shaved, pretty much both the same height, hiding smiles that could not be hidden from Derek, thanks to their dimples.

He asked again, this time practically each word being a new sentence. "Who put the prank up?"

The shaved one stepped forward. "That, good sir, would be me," he said and mockingly bowed while letting out a smirk that annoyed the fuck out of Derek. "Name's Stilinski, but call me Stiles."

"Oh, cute. Some papa and mama's boy thinks he knows how to prank."

"Sorry. Didn't picture you as a mama's boy. What do you think, Scott?" Sending a brief look at his friend before looking back at Derek with the 'what-are-you-going-to-say-now' look.

"No, definitely not. How about that cute little obedient brother?" the other boy, Scott McCall, joined in the conversation as well, standing beside his friend, Stiles.

"Nah, he ain't cute, neither is little the term I'd use, not to mention the obedient part. Maybe a nephew kinda guy?" Stiles chatted, now looking at his friend, not paying attention to Derek.

Scott shrugged. "Nah ... Just doesn't ... _Feel_ right, ya know," he said, now fully overlooking Derek, like he wasn't even there.

Derek was getting tired of their rambling, being ignored of his very existence, even though he was right in front of them. The worst part is, they got even louder – from almost a whisper to half screaming in a _snap_. And if they don't shut up soon, their _bones_ will snap. It's like they knew family talk was especially a painful topic. Not for Derek, but for the person he was talking with, of course. It made him less impatient.

And not having much patience to begin with, Derek was lost in less than a minute of their rambling.

He growled. Derek actually _growled_. But it got their attention, so it was worth the weirded out looks he would take care of _later_.

"Listen to me, little brats." No other way to say it, Derek began spitting out the words. "I don't care about your names, don't care what you are. What I do care about is your wannabe pranking. I'm the top dog here, not you. So, take this as a warning. Next time you decide to play a trick on me, you will live a long and painful death."

Scott and Stiles were serious now, thinking about his words. But right before Derek was ready to take a seat, they erupted in laughter. Again.

"That's what he was! I can't believe we didn't think of it!" Scott spoke of it like it was the most obvious thing.

And apparently, it wouldn't do justice if Stiles didn't join in as well. "He's the family pet! Ugh, finally figured it out!" he said and let out a groan before resting his arm on Scott's shoulder and walking away, saying something Derek hadn't quite heard as they walked out.

As they left, Derek's emotions were mixed. He looked bored on the outside, but inside, he felt relieved of finally getting rid of them, proud his classmates were hidden under their desks after his small outburst, angry that he was ignored and deep inside that muscled body of his, there was a hint of sadness that was never to be shown.

When the bell rang, he was surprised that much time had passed. He sat down next to the window in the back row, getting lost in his world as he watched white clouds pass and change on the light blue sky, not really thinking about anything, just observing.

Derek hadn't paid much attention to the teacher when he was asked why not pay attention, he simply shrugged, saying "I'll start listening to you – the teacher – when you actually start teaching," so he was left alone unbothered the rest of the day, much to his liking.

You'd think his day would be a bit more exciting, but it wasn't. He only had one class together with the two people he actually tolerated, and even that was the last one and it just had to be with the teacher Derek disliked the most.

Why was life so difficult sometimes? And as if seven hours of complete boredom weren't enough, there was still something he had to do before he was freed of school for the day.

Because same as last year, Derek was forced to go to the school counselor for _'guidance'_. Or better said, sitting for an hour in front of an old hag and listening to her nonsense. Always the same thing: _"You should open up ... This is a safe place ... It's for your own good ..."_ blah blah, stuff like that. Honestly, he didn't understand why they bothered with him so much. They must've realized by now that the only reason he has ever come to any social worker was just to make their job (and life) more difficult.

He never was one to brag, but his best work 'till now was definitely the school counselor.

When he came to her as a freshman, he could see she wasn't that old; somewhere in her thirties. Her lively mid-length blonde hair was fixed up and her greenish emerald eyes had a spark inside of them, making her smile even bigger.

But when he finished first year, her hair was messy and lost their glow, her eyes dull with eye bags while she never smiled anymore, her face wrinkled all over. Every time Derek was scheduled for a meeting, she opened her drawer and drank all her nerve pills – _at least_ 5 sorts.

And somehow, Derek couldn't help but feel like she was exaggerating. Sure, he was a handful, but he wasn't that bad... Huh, when you think about it, he was probably even worse. From the everyday pranks to the 'special' ones he pulled, he was surprised they hadn't kicked him out of school yet.

But even kicking him out of school would've had been better than spending a whole freakin' hour every day after school for the rest of the year in a small office with a corpse he despised!

Ok, yes, he does hate a lot of things and people, but nothing and no one compared to _Mrs. Lenner_. He even hates the sound of her name!

Walking into the torture chamber he'll be in for a long, _long_ time, he still didn't afford her the satisfaction of knowing he was in actual physical pain.

So, as always, he simply put a smirk on his face. "Long time no see, wouldn't you agree?" he said as he sat down on the chair in front of her desk and put his backpack down.

And her response was somewhat of a shock to him. Since this was her job, she always just ignored the statements she thought were inappropriate or stupid and did her job by trying to get him to talk about his behavior and ... Feelings.

Today, it seems, _someone_ woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

"Shut it, _Derek_ ," Mrs. Lenner spat as she stood up. "If I never saw you, ever again, not even after a billion years in the afterlife, it would be too soon and anything but pleasant."

Derek was kinda frozen at the moment. She never got angry to yell or even snap at him, she always just drank her pills and talked in a calm voice.

But it seems it is not always, for she was pissed right now. Turning around, her back facing Derek, she began telling a story in a – thankfully – calmer voice as Derek only listened and didn't say anything insulting or sarcastic, which was real, real _hard_ for him.

"Ever since I was a little girl, I loved helping. I loved the way it made me feel when I saw a smile on a once sad person. Somehow, I just knew what they needed to hear, so when it came to choosing a profession, I didn't have any trouble. I worked hard, studied and had fun doing it. When I graduated, I was unemployed for a month before I got a call from the former principle of this school, offering me the spot of a guidance counselor. Not thinking twice, I said yes. I fell in love with this place and I fell in love with a nice man, got married and did miracles to teens that went here. They came with a frown and left with a grin," she smiled, thinking back to the memory.

"The principal was great; he knew how to discipline even the most difficult children. Unfortunately, his ages had caught up to him and he was replaced. Which was not a problem, changes are made constantly and it's up to you to adapt." She sighed and continued. "And I did. But after seven years of working here, the new loving principal, Mrs. Revelly had doubts in my methods, so she'd said some things, I'd said some things and I ended up with a student I had to open up and direct on the right path in one school year. I was up for it and I wouldn't let anybody tell me otherwise. That student was you."

She looked at Derek like it was all his fault. _'What a drama queen'_ he smiled at his thought, barely keeping it inside and not saying it aloud.

But Derek wasn't the only one barely keeping something inside; Mrs. Lenner hadn't done a good work in hiding her anger towards him.

"I tried everything and anything I could think of, but I didn't manage. All the things you pulled on me ... I wasn't even safe in my own home! I got pills, started meditation, acupuncture, massage treatments, sauna ... Nothing! I was on the verge of killing myself, not knowing the next thing that would _'accidentally'_ go wrong!" She was panting for air, obviously in an intense moment, but Derek was ... entertained. So, why not join the show he was in right now?

He dramatically gasped and looked shocked, which wasn't a problem. "You did all of that just for _mua_? You shouldn't have gone through all that trouble!" he was smiling at how Mrs. Lenner just clenched her fists and closed her eyes to calm herself down. In the end not working 'cause she yelled.

"Exactly! I should have just quit. I could easily get another job. No money in the world is worth dealing with you! Mrs. Revelly offered me another year of working at this school, but I just laughed and said _I QUIT_!" She was laughing like a maniac right now, so it wasn't hard to guess how she laughed at the principal.

"Tomorrow, after classes, the new counselor will come and you'll be her problem then. You are expected to be there on time. That's all I was supposed to say, but there's something else. You see, I was here today to collect all my things and inform everyone that visited me regularly that I'm leaving. I was ready to take the pills with me but decided against. Whoever accepted this job is going to need them more than I will."

"Top drawer, right?" Derek had asked and Mrs. Lenner nodded.

"I also decided to add some extra since she's dealing with two, not only one." Derek was confused. Who could be a potential problematic besides him? But then he remembered.

"The Stilinski kid?" he rolled his eyes as hard as his body allowed him to. " _Please_. Sure, he has talent but he's nothing compared to me. Well, I'd say it was nice chatting with you, but it really wasn't. Especially since I could've left half an hour ago and skipped the boring story!" Derek said and pointed at the wall clock as he stood up. "Goodbye!" He yelled back and walked through the door.

Normal people would be weirded out, but having dealt with him for a whole year, this was nothing. She saw the backpack next to the chair he sat on just a moment ago and grabbed it with a stick. Again, normal people would think that was strange, but you can never be too careful with Derek. She went outside her former office and saw him in the hallways. "You forgot your backpack!" She yelled and threw him the object with the stick in her hands. Derek caught it with no sweat before yelling: "Sorry, it's not mine!" and threw it back. But as soon as her hands touched the backpack, trying to stop it from landing on her face, black liquid exploded all over her head and clothes.

She took deep breaths before yelling to the boy that caused it: " _Derek Wicklear_!" She cleared her eyes so she could see again, but he was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Instead of going straight to his guardians' home, Derek took the liberty of grabbing his board and going to the skate park. He liked the atmosphere there and all of his hang-out buddies were there.

You think he would call them his friends, but they weren't; at least not in his view. A friend is someone you can trust, but Derek didn't trust anyone for over seven years now. He didn't like to talk about it. Maybe in the further future he will, but not right now.

Putting a smile on his face was the moment he stepped on his skateboard and went freestyling; trying out some new tricks, laughing when somebody else tried and failed at them.

Before realizing, it was already darkening, so he went to his guardians' place, making the curfew. That mattered because once he hadn't made it and then he was grounded for a month with no technology and that was a living hell that he was not looking forward to repeating.

He ate dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Wicklear, making small talk about their days (listening to them talking about their days and not uttering a word) before he headed to his bedroom.

He lay on his bed, thinking about everything that happened at school and tried to mentally prepare himself for the new counselor.

You know how most people do preparations for school during summer? Well, he did preparations _of_ school – of the people that were going to go there.

And while he was going through them, he stopped at one student; M. Stilinski. He was the sheriff's son. They showed enormous notes of before, during and after class pranks. He ditched quite a lot but managed a perfect A record. He hadn't been arrested yet but was known for showing up at the crime scenes very often. Ha, _right_... His dad had him under house arrest for six months (with the exception of going to school) for going to Mexico and almost flooding a small town that he forgot the name of. Not something you'd expect from a goody two shoes (no judging, he's tired and doesn't have the strength to think of a better name – and he has a big vocabulary)

If someone wonders how he knows all of that, he will deny any and all accusations of having paid a co-partner into hacking the school and police record. No, he did not do that. Absolutely not him. Nope.

And when meeting M. Stilinski (real first name still unknown – for god's sake, his name is hidden better than the FBI criminal files), he introduced himself as Stiles, his best friend obviously the boy with him (Scot McCall) and both pranksters, but amateurs.

Derek couldn't help but feel amused by them, although they're seriously rude, just ignoring Derek while he's standing in front of them.

With them, the new councilor and new guardians (Derek changes them a lot), this is going to be a very interesting year indeed.

* * *

Derek woke up unusually fresh for someone who couldn't fall asleep until 3 in the morning.

But that's ok.

'Cause instead of having a day off, while he couldn't fall asleep, he thought of a prank that would be finished _beautifully_.

But he needed the Lawyer's and Hacker's help.

So, he made a call. And it just wouldn't be Derek if he didn't get them on a mutual call, they were _best of friends_ after all.

It took a while to get an answer, and even then he got only one.

"What the fuck Derek?! It's fuckin' six! In case you didn't know, I need my fuckin' sleep!" said the jackass from the phone, aka. Lawyer, aka. Jackson Whittemore. (Blonde hair, blue eyes – enough for you to know that he was a prick)

"Oh, just suck it in, Jackson." Derek returned but then remembered why he was probably so sleepy. "You know, you could take lessons on that from Lydia. Say hello to her for me, will ya?"

There was a horrible attempt at hiding the whisper 'Dammit' heard before Jackson's annoyed voice came to Derek's ears. "What do you want?"

This call was taking way to long in Derek's opinion.

So, he ordered "My place in 30. Be there. Bring Hacker." and hung up immediately, not waiting for a reply.

Not much time had passed before the sound of a Porsche parking was heard in front of his place as made his way out with his school stuff and his laptop.

Derek took the front seat beside the driver, as always. "Good morning! Ready for a new day?" Derek said over cheerful just 'cause he was Satan's reincarnation.

Both Jackson and Danny Mahealani – aka. the Hacker who is also known as LAG (Legend among Gays) – groaned out.

"Morning would be more enjoyable if you hadn't woken me up so early," Jackson snorted

"And then having him wake me up immediately after as well," Danny added, not liking the fact that he was being left out of the complaining.

Derek just ignored their whining and went straight to the business. "We will hack into two Facebook accounts and send the same message on both sides before deleting it on the account from where it was sent. – And by we, I mean Danny. – As everybody normal, those two will check their messages and then our job will be done."

Jackson and Danny took the info in and seemed to agree with the plan. But something was still unclear.

"How the hell is that entertaining in any kinda way?" Jackson asked, confused.

"See, here's where it gets interesting," Derek was smirking. With evil intentions. But those are just details, whatever.

"You both know the sophomore virgin, Benjamin. As I'm sure you are also aware that we have a potential porn-star freshman named Sydney walking on our school grounds." They both nodded, picking up what Derek meant. "Now wouldn't that make the cut for an entertaining encounter?"

Danny realized where Derek was going faster, so he already opened his laptop with a devilish spark inside of his eyes and started typing.

Not five minutes later, Jackson finally understood what Derek's plan was exactly while Danny was already half way through it.

"Now, Derek, what do you think they would say to each other if they – by any chance – happened to stumble upon each other?" Danny asked as if being clueless. And this is where they get creative.

"Oh, I don't know, they are difficult to comprehend. But, if I had to guess, I'd say ... Something like this." Derek typed something on his phone before handing it to Danny on the backseat. Derek didn't even have to look back to know he was reading it wide eyed.

"Are you absolutely sure they'd send each other something like that?" Danny asked, handing him the phone after copying it on his laptop. He still was not sure about Derek's decision and nevertheless shocked about what he read just a moment ago.

But even then, he knew Derek better than that. They weren't friends, of course not, but he knew Derek wouldn't change his stubborn mind.

"You do realize that hacking and pretending to be somebody else is illegal and could get you in jail?" Jackson decided to finally say something. "But then again, you are only discussing what they would say, so nothing wrong with that ... And they'd have no proof."

Danny ended up sending a text despite his doubts and not long after, the smirking partners in anything-but-crime reached the school.

So, it probably wasn't Derek's brightest idea to be seen with them in public. True, they've been working together for over a year now, but they had been keeping that partnership on the down-low. Up until now...

"Jackson, what is your job?" Derek asked angrily but didn't wait for an answer before spitting out in his face. "Your job is to make sure we don't end up as suspects for the next murder that happens when a psychopath decides it's time to bust out of jail and get revenge. And hate to say it, but you did just that."

'Cause coming to school with the most popular kid in there and his best friend wasn't something you should do unless you want people to think you are working together in a crime association.

Which wasn't too farfetched, but still. He could have dealt with no authoritative persons breathing on his neck.

"What's done is done ... including that thing from before." Of course, he wouldn't hold a grudge against his almost-friend, who just happened to be someone who knew enough to be able to land him behind bars.

They got over the fact that their relationship became public pretty quickly, because of the noises they heard as soon as they were near the school entrance.

And no, they were not pleasant noises.

They reminded you of the noises you make whilst in pain. Or, you know, during sex.

And when they actually were there, they saw something that sent shivers down their spines with disgust.

Jackson was looking between Derek and Danny before deciding to ask about it because it really set repugnance deep within his body: "What the fuck did you write? _'Oh hey, it's me! Come to school and dry hump me as soon as you fucking see me?!'_ "

"No, actually." As you have probably comprehended already, Derek also felt the need to protect as little of dignity he had left.

"I actually only wrote 'Hi, how about a date tonight before I f _*beep*_ you senseless' and I guess they had a different order in mind," Danny answered in Derek's place – Derek ignoring the fact that that was not what he typed –, all three filled with nausea.

Wordless, they hurried each to their own classroom, paying as little attention as possible to the show that was enrolling beside the lockers - thankfully not theirs. Derek's little match-making project turned out into something more ... _Exotic_. (Now change the X into an R and you'll be good to go)

But then, right before Derek walked into his classroom, something interesting happened that didn't make him laugh his ass off at all.

Apparently, dear 'lil old Benjamin and Sydney decided to have their way in front of Stiles and Scott's locker, and right when he thought Derek's day could not get any better, this happened:

Stiles is trying to get to his locker on which Derek's currently favorites are leaning on while he's cursing all around. And damn can that guy curse! – Not that Derek would ever admit that ... And it wasn't like he was using many words for which he could get expelled for, but more the way he found himself around them that was almost amusing, but mostly just unheard of. Example: who the fuck still uses "bloody hell" as a curse?! (Not counting the old people, those didn't even know what swearing was.)

Back on track; as he was yelling at Scott to get the frustration out whilst the teachers were trying to stop the pornography that was unrolling itself in front of their eyes, someone turned on the sprinklers and it was Hilarious!

The guy and all the teachers were drenched in water and if Derek hadn't mastered his control, he would be rolling on the floor as we speak.

But that didn't mean he wasn't struggling, at least he was until he lost it completely. Stiles saw him looking all innocent-like and he – needless to say – had presumed Derek was behind it all.

Basically, Stiles – in water-leaking clothes – had stomped over to Derek, begun speaking in a foreign language (what was that?! _Russian?_ ) and looked all accusingly while pointing his finger at Derek like he was trying to pick one of his eyes out, all the while resembling a little kid.

And it didn't even matter what language it was or what he was saying because the way Stiles' face was becoming red with anger and the reason why he was like that in the first place was enough of a reason to burst out into laughter. And that made Stiles even angrier which made Derek laugh even harder.

 _Too bad all good things must come to an end..._

 **AN:** I'm new to writing anything, so please ease up the criticism. I'm up for hearing my mistakes, but please keep it clean. Also, I apologise if there were any grammatical slip-ups on my behalf. Or if the whole story is out of place... I tend to get distracted a lot...

Thank you for understanding! (Hopefully you do...)

Please review *makes puppy-dog eyes*

PS: not all author's notes (in the beginning of a chapter) will be that long, promise.

Also, since Derek's in foster care, his last name is Wicklear. It will be explained later on in the story, but just to avoid confusion I thought I'd tell you guys.

Until next time:

 **~ Lots of love, M.**


	2. 2 Introducing (part 2)

I'M SO SORRY! **Review!**

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

 ** _Preview of the last chapter:_** _Derek met Stiles, hates his guts, explained his life blah-blah. Ended when Stiles was yelling at Derek in a foreign language._

 **story4you**

 **Introducing (part 2)**

And it didn't even matter what language it was or what he was saying because the way Stiles' face was becoming red with anger and the reason why he was like that in the first place was enough of a reason to burst out into laughter. And that made Stiles even angrier which made Derek laugh even harder.

 _Too bad all good things must come to an end..._

On the other hand, the new counselor is fun. At least she was for making him skip class with a good excuse.

Definitely not fun if she thinks to have in-pair counseling will help Derek be more open. If anything, Derek will just get more chances to kill the person sitting next to him.

Yeah, Ms. Morrell – as she introduced herself – had new methods indeed.

"For god's sake, idiot! She thinks us _'spending time'_ will be a help to your issues. Snap out of it and object, because I won't be in the same room as you, not for even a second more than necessary, which is none at all!" the person on the chair next to Derek said. And this is why he hates the new counselor.

"Shut _up_ , Stiles!" Yes, you read it right. Of all people she could have chosen to make Derek waste time with, it had to be that annoying skinny chatterbox with those never sitting still amber eyes and absolutely never closed mouth! Even when Derek yelled and spat in his face.

"Oh, so the famous Derek Wicklear has suddenly found words and they are directed at me! What an _honor_! You think that just because of your expert ditch-prank skills you're special?! You are not! And be happy I'm not going through your files because there are some really interesting things I found in there."

Derek is not worried that he'll go to jail (he has Jackson), but he is going to be forward.

If Stiles doesn't shut his mouth soon – in less than 5 minutes soon –, Derek is drawing on him.

With a long and sharp blade. And a rope tied _tightly_. And a cross-bow. And many other things that cause pain.

 _So_ ... Basically, hurt him.

Slowly and painfully.

But before he had a chance to do or say anything, Ms. Morrell yelled "Enough!" and that shut them up. Yes, even Stiles.

"I'll see you both together after your classes. Now go, you already missed the first period, you are not missing the second as well."

They left, but as soon as the door was closed, Stiles began whisper-yelling.

"Next time someone suggests we spend unnecessary time together, how about if you give me a hand and refuse?! It's bad enough they're making me go to that stupid witch, it will not be with you. Agreed?"

"Ya know what? I don't want to deal with you right now. Goodbye."

Stiles was in a warrior stance ready to fight back, but the bell rang. So, _so_ unfortunate for him...

They had to get back to class and before Stiles was fully gone, he yelled out to Derek: "This isn't over yet!"

 _'Of course,'_ Derek thought. _'He just had to get the last word.'_

By now, you probably figured it out. And if not, then you must not have any of the 5th senses. It is as plain as a summer day that Derek and Stiles detest each other. _Strongly._

And the last thing he wanted was to talk about him during lunch.

Unfortunately for his headache 'cause that's the only thing Jackson wanted to discuss. Was it too much to ask to eat his burger in piece?!

"What the fuck?! I knew Finstock would be welcoming new lacrosse players, but what is he thinking?! McCall and Stilinski are now on the team. _McCall_ and _Stilinski_! True, they'll only be bench-warmers, but _still_!"

Derek breathed in louder than needed, fed up with only talking about him. – What was so special about him?! He was just a stupid freshman for fuck's sake! – But it didn't go unnoticed by Danny.

"Derek? I know you usually turn yourself off in Jackson's rambling, _I do too_ ," he said carefully, mumbling the last part, "But you seem even more out than usual. Is there a reason for it?"

Oh, such a _joy_ it was that Stiles and Scott, along with Lydia and other lacrosse players sat at their table right after. And an even bigger one when Stiles sat opposite of him.

Derek was pretty sure his annoyance was radiating in waves. Is it even possible for a person to get on all seven trillion nerves? Because that's what Stiles as doing at the moment.

"You don't mind if we sit here, do you?" Derek would happily say _'Yes, we do'_ , but Stiles continued immediately, not giving time to answer.

"Great. Derek, we need to talk. Don't worry, nothing serious, just wanted you to know that I have a plan. The only thing you'll need to do is sit quietly and do nothing. Agreed?"

Everybody was looking at him, but he just kept on eating and ignoring him. Until Stiles kicked him in the leg and repeated: _"Agreed?"_

"No. You'll follow me. The end."

 _O_ -kay, Derek had enough of lunch *cough _stiles_ cough* for today...

Apparently, the _dearest_ counselor didn't share his opinion.

He ended up in the same office after school where they read the school rules and discussed them ... _Not_ a great idea. In fact, it is a terrible idea.

That hasn't been made clear to Ms. Morrell.

"Stiles, next on the list, please. And Derek, pay attention to this one. You seem to have _trouble_ remembering it."

At that, Stiles snickered before reading it silently. And laughing right after just 'cause.

"PDA of any sexual manner is not allowed on school grounds. Seriously? Out of all things, you can't keep your penis in your pants. What a _shocker_ ," Stiles kindly annoyed Derek once again.

But before they could begin yet another brawl, Ms. Morrell cleared her throat and encouraged Derek to read the next rule.

How naive of her.

"No. I am not reading this stupid, completely pointless thing."

"You don't have a choice. Now read," Morrell ordered to deaf ears. Derek threw the plasticized paper on her desk, his mouth shut tightly in protest.

She looked over to Stiles that was copying Derek's objection, him having a hard time not being used to silence. He didn't have to keep quiet for long, though, just a minute or so.

"Fine, I'm letting you go this one time, but only because your transport is here. I'll see you tomorrow, same time, same place."

 _Uh-oh_... She smiled ... It's not going to be pleasant...

Derek was – sadly – right yet again. Stiles' father gave him a ride.

Did he mention Stiles was the Sheriff's son?

"So, Derek, where do you live?" the Sheriff asked, trying to break the ice. As always in that kind of a situation, he just answered politely and it was so unlike him. Apparently, Stiles thought so too because he looked at him as if he'd fallen from the sky.

"Derek, do you have a fever? 'Cause that is the only explanation I can think of for you to be polite and not growl at everyone around you," Stiles commented on it.

"Oh, I don't growl at everyone. Just at the people I hate," returned Derek to the annoyance in the back seat.

"And I am someone you hate? Please, you know you love me. Everybody does!"

Derek pretended to think before answering: "Hmm... Nope. No tolerance towards you, just hate."

"Fuck you! You think you're so smart, don't you? While you're just a..."

"Stiles!" his father yelled and Derek remembered they weren't alone in the car.

He looked through the mirror above to see Stiles' open mouth, ready to argue, but the Sheriff's stern look shut him up.

Mr. Stilinski gave out a tired sigh. "Derek, what did you say your address was again?"

He repeated it, not sure if he's moments away from making the Sheriff get his gun out and shoot him in the head.

"Well, you'll be happy to know, then, that we are minutes away from reaching your house. Also, yours is quite close to Stiles' and mine. Want to come for a visit after Stiles stops acting like a five-year-old?" he intendedly added the last part and glancing at Stiles.

Silence.

Both of them just stared out of the window, thinking of a way to get out of it. Fortunately for Stiles, Derek's a good liar.

"Maybe another time. I've got loads of homework to do and I'm sure Stiles has, too. But thanks for the offer." Mr. Stilinski nodded: "I'll take your word on that."

Derek's guardians' house could not come quicker. And when it finally did, Derek barely restrained himself not to run. He stepped out of the car, as quickly as possible said: "Thanks for the ride. Bye!" before closing the door and hurrying to go inside.

 _"That's something I don't wanna repeat_ …" Derek mumbled to himself as he made his way to the kitchen.

He prepared himself a large sandwich that made his mouth water: prosciutto, salami, cheese, tomato and cucumber slices all tucked up into the biggest bread roll he could find in the kitchen. _Yummy :)_

Why is it that in those short 15 minutes or so that it took him to prepare his lunch, his messenger was flooded? Seriously.

He took his sandwich to his room where he threw himself on the bed – carefully, of course – and when he checked his phone, he had more than 100 notifications, at least 50 of those were sent in the last hour.

How _The FUCK_?!

He scrolled down, looking for someone who he'd actually care what they had to say. Most of the messages were just _'Nice/awesome/amazing prank!'_ or something like that. Girls also texted him, asking him on dates. Some were even that bold to ask him for sex.

He kept those – _just in case_ –, the rest was deleted. And then **Derek** came to the group chat he had with _Jackson_ and  Danny.

No wonder he had 99 texts. Only in there were _at_ the very _least_ 40 texts.

 _J: Dude you better be on… What the fuck was that during lunch?_

D: I would like to know that as well.

 _J: Come on, don't tell me you're scared._

D: Jackson, stop it. He isn't even online.

 _J: And why isn't he online?_

 _J: Told you he's scared._

D: Doesn't he have to go to the school counselor? 

_J: Yeah, like that's ever stopped him from ditching…_

… many, Many, MANY texts later ...

 **D: Just have sex and make up already. You're annoying me.**

 **D: And flooding my messenger.**

 _J: Hallelujah, he's finally on._

 _J: You owe us an explanation, mister._

D: What the fuck was between you and Stiles today?

D: Finally realized you were bi, did you? ;) 

**D: NO! Nothing like that. It is a loooong story…**

 _J: We have time. Speak_

Of course, Jackson would have time… But the question was if Derek had enough patience and nerves for him…

 **D: Basically, I have to be with Stiles one hour a day, every day, after school… Yeeey!**

D: So, same as last year, except with company

 _J: *annoying company. Danny, next time you make a mistake, correct yourself._

 _J: Derek, you better find a way to get rid of him._

D: We were with him five more minutes after you left and I had to listen to Jackson's complaint AN HOUR afterward! I don't mean one school hour, I mean a full hour! 60 minutes, 3600 seconds! 

**D: Stiles' dad gave me a ride home.**

D: Oh... My sincere condolences… 

**D: Yeah… I have to go now. Bye**

He actually didn't have to, but he just didn't want to deal with any of the two. And he didn't want to talk about Stiles, which is all they would have talked about if he had stayed.

Derek switched his messenger, so he was offline and finally ate his sandwich. He was starving!

And also bored, so he put a random adventure movie on. If the movie is categorized under adventure and is younger than 40 years, he'll watch it. That is literally the only criteria he has for movies.

Derek realized after the movie had already started that he had chosen to watch The Princess Bride. He recalls reading the book over and over again as a child, but he's forgotten what it was about. A reminder wouldn't hurt, now would it? All in all, the plot is interesting, he knows at least that much.

He'll have to remember to fix his eating habits, though. He gobbled the large sandwich in less than 15 minutes, something most people would consider as unhealthy.

As soon as the movie finished, he just about ran outside. He felt jittery, like something was not right, something was missing. He knew full well what that was, but it's not like he could even do anything to change what had happened years ago.

He ran to the preserve, didn't care that he had jeans on, all that mattered to Derek was that he was surrounded by nature as fast as possible.

When his lungs started functioning normally again, Derek found himself looking over the cliff only to see the whole city below.

In spite of being in the preserve most of his time, he has never been here, which is a shame. He could only imagine how it looked at night, all those lights lit up in the city under and the stars shimmering upon...

Damn it!

What was up with him?! That is not something he thought about and he shouldn't start now.

He managed to be fine for seven years and he isn't going to change it anytime soon or ever for that matter.

He just needed to find an easy gal to get his mind distracted.

Yeah.

Let's go with that.

* * *

You'd be surprised how easy it is to convince his guardians to let him stay outside. Only he wasn't.

He borrowed Jackson's Porsche (without permission... pfft, who needs details...) and drove a couple of miles out of Beacon Hills to a gay club. No, he wasn't gay, but it was the easiest way to get a girl. Here's his philosophy:

For some reason, girls find guys dancing with guys hot, so they come there and dance, thinking 'it is a gay club, all guys are gay', so they rub themselves against Derek as well. Only later on when things get heated, he whispers to them "I have a secret" and they usually show full interest in what he's about to say. He leans his head to their ear and says "I'm not gay" and his job is done.

Tonight was no different.

Derek ended up with some brunette – he will never see again after this night – that had the boom boom in all the right places.

As soon as he said it, she kissed his lips fiercely, letting Derek's tongue invade her mouth. He pulled her closer by her ass, crashing their hips together. He could feel her breath on his face when they pulled away and the slight swelling with every kiss. It was rough and stress relieving and just what Derek needed – pleasureful.

They stumbled to the back of the club, not breaking their kisses. Her dress was already lifted up, hair getting messy and he also noticed she wasn't wearing any panties. He had her against the wall, their hips grinding. Derek's breathing was getting shaky and quick, his actions drawing moans and whimpers from her.

When he started pumping two fingers into her, she was already wet, opening up to him and making him forget everything except the sounds she let out because of him. Derek was hard and every movement of his legs or hips created that sweet friction on his crotch, regretting the black jeans that were getting tighter and tighter by the second.

Her knees were trembling with the upcoming orgasm, tightening around Derek's fingers and leaning most of her weight on him. She had tears of pleasure in her eyes, two fingers being enough to send her over the edge, but also a constant teasing.

She bit Derek's shoulder to muffle her scream when she came, but Derek was just beginning. He took his fingers out, giving her a minute to come down from her high. He brought the two fingers to her lips, ordering her: "Lick them. Lick them clean as if they were my dick. Taste your cum."

She took them in her mouth, circling them with her tongue. Derek imagined that was his penis she was licking, and boy did she know her stuff. He took them out soon enough and when he did, he was fully hard and having pants on hurt like a bitch! Before he let them fall to the ground along with his boxers, he took a condom out of his back pocket and rolled it on him.

They were moaning messes as soon as he entered her. She clenched around him and Derek swore with every thrust of his shaft into her, stretching her vagina and giving them both the pleasure they needed. Her back was pressed against the wall.

Derek wasn't sure if she'd be alright after this, his rhythm fast and hard, making her hit the surface behind her. But he was almost there, just a little more...

She cummed for the second time that night, clenching so tight she brought him over the edge as well.

Slipping out of her carefully, he dressed slowly because of the slight dizziness in his head. As soon as he was clothed, Derek walked away. She called out, but he didn't turn back.

He couldn't, even if he wanted to. Nothing could change that. And maybe it was how it's supposed to be. Destiny 'n all... Perhaps everything was how it's meant to be...

He's never thought about it before, but it's weird. Fucking with people of whom names were unknown, one night stands and not caring about what Derek had just counted. But it didn't mean he was going to stop.

And he didn't.

Even if he didn't quite remember it. All he remembered from last night is screwing some girl on a wall, driving Jackson's Porsche back to his house and going to his guardians', falling asleep on his bed upstairs. Perhaps he took a drink too many, judging from his headache and puke-one's-guts-out feeling. But that most definitely wasn't the reason he felt like something had been ripped out of him.

Derek didn't feel like doing anything, what else thinking of a prank. Good thing humankind developed this thing called ignoring. No one spoke to him, no one was near him in the 5-foot radius and best of all, no Stiles. Even after school when they were supposed to be together, he wasn't there for some reason. Derek didn't dare ask about it, instead, he simply enjoyed the Stiles-free day.

Now that he wasn't in the hell hole counselor office, Derek could keep quiet and wait for the hour to pass. So many ridiculous thoughts and nonsense passed through his mind...

Was it weird that he just wanted to sleep? Or watch a movie. Or anything really, as long as it wasn't sitting still and having a staring competition with the supposedly professional figure.

For the first 15 minutes, that is. Then the only person Derek didn't want to see showed up. Oh joy, oh joy!

"O, I sincerely apologize for bursting in like this..."

Even if Derek couldn't see 'SARCASM' written all over within his voice, he would still know it was a torture to both parties included, even if they were in the same room for less than 15 seconds.

"...I just wanted to warn Derek that basketball practice has already started and he absolutely must be there. You see, he's told me he's quite forgetful, so he asked me to remind him, didn't you, Derek?" He turned his head towards him and he could see the intent of saving him out of here.

"Yeah, thanks for saving me," Derek threw the most flirtatious smile for no reason at all and God so help him, if it ever happens again, he will claw his face off by himself rather than let that happen.

He threw a quick goodbye to his torturer before speeding out of her office. As soon as they were out of her sight, Stiles went towards the stadium while Derek continued his way to the gym. He didn't even think about basketball, but the hell, he's got time to spend. He made a stop in the dressing room to put on some shorts and to the gym it was.

"Well, well, well ... Look at who we have here ... Lost your way, did you, _Derek_?" someone unimportant mused. He paid no mind to them while searching for the coach.

"Wicklear! Finally showed up, I see," the basketball coach – Mr. Nolan – said a bit angrily.

"Yes, don't mind if I join in, do you?" 'What did he mean by finally?' Derek questioned.

"No, I don't mind if you 'join in'. That's what you're supposed to do when you're on the team. Now go run ten laps! And join the rest of your teammates after! They've been here for half an hour like you were supposed to be."

'So that's what he meant when he said finally. But weren't the tryouts during summer vacation?' Derek was lost, but he wasn't going to think about it, simply ignore it. Makes your life so much easier.

He ran the laps (good thing he retained his stamina or else it would be a disaster) and the rest of the practice was only remembering the rules and getting used to playing again. He would be lying if he said he wasn't any good. Not to blow his ego or anything, but he's natural at basketball, always has been. He's able to think rationally and doesn't attack everyone that gets in his, has great aim and also decent passing skills. He could play any position, really, from a guard to a forward, but their school doesn't use them. To put it in other words, everybody plays whatever.

He got a few (many) bad looks from everyone on the team, but they dealt. It's how basketball players work. Shrug it off and continue playing 'cause it's a team sport. And it's been so long since Derek's been a part of something because he wanted to, not because he had to or was obliged to. It may not have been his idea, but he sure as hell is happy and – …dare he say it... – grateful that he decided to come.

It turned out that was exactly what he needed to stop his thoughts of his family or better said, the lack of it.

Maybe after spending the last seven years in misery, things would start to get better. And for what is worth, he had faith.

After a long while, Derek finally hoped.

 **Author's note:**

Guys, I am SO SORRY for taking so long to update! I promise I'll try to deal with school so I can update faster. Also, I really need to learn how to write smut 'cause after this chapter's disaster, I'm not sure how I'll be able to write a whole story with them (only longer and hopefully better), including BxB which will definitely be a challenge for me (BTW, if you didn't know, I'm a girl)...

What did I get myself into... Well, I'll manage somehow, I guess...

So, I'd really appreciate if you could bare with me through these dark ages of my smut-developing...

Other than that, PLEASE REVIEW!

You have no idea how frustrating it is when you see at least a hundred reads and only one review and you don't know if they like your story or not, if you are doing a good job or not and if you need to change your style of writing or not... etcetera, etcetera...

If you do not want to make a public review, PM me! I'd love to get that.

I just need to know what are your opinions because I am not a mind reader! I can not tell what I need to change, if I should change and what should stay the same if you don't tell me. It can be all 'bad' news (called constructive criticism) for all I care!

* * *

So, **sum up** of my blabber:

1\. I'll try to **update faster  
** 2. **_REVIEW/PM_ (!)**


	3. 3 Welcome to High School!

I'm sorry for making you wait.

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

 _ **Preview:** Stiles' view of things, starting on the welcoming prank  
_

 **story4you  
Welcome to High School!**

Stiles was awoken by the sound of the wind, weak sunlight making the way into his room. He got out of bed and looked at the clock on his bedside table.

He fell back on his bed, groaning: "Seriously?" He woke up three hours before his actual wake up time!

Ok, 40 minutes, but that was a lot!

And when he couldn't fall asleep, he got out and did some research …

Nothing good comes out when Stiles has extra time to spend, trust him.

Within those 'hours', he had breakfast, showered, got dressed and came up with the best welcome prank. Whoever's this Derek better watch out. And being Stiles, he never does things alone.

Scott, his best friend and the most wonderful friend in the world, was always up early, something about lacrosse. Both were on the team, but they weren't – how should he put it … – any good at all. Honestly, the only reason he joined was because Scott was there and Lydia Martin, the prettiest, smartest, funniest, most beautiful girl he has ever seen comes to lacrosse practices often. Did he mention she was also the most unreachable girl?

For one, she had a boyfriend. As for the second argument, Stiles. He wasn't muscular, wasn't handsome, his hair wasn't _*p*e*r*f*e*c*t_ , his body and characteristics had many flaws. Why would a girl so ideal be wasting her time with a more-human-looking Frankenstein?

Yeah, the point made.

So, dragging Scott to four more years of pranking and trouble-making, he did some research of where Wicklear's classroom was so they could set up.

Unlike other people who took prank wars as a joke, Stiles was very serious about them. (Now imagine him telling you this in a suit to look all business-like, so his point stood ... and he looked hot, in his opinion.)

He was physically and mentally unable to understand how some thought they were _'just for fun'_. If you didn't have the right opponent, everything would be pointless, your life would be pointless. So he searched high and low to find someone who was as serious about them as him and he had found him right when hope was fading.

Derek Wicklear.

The guy dedicated his last two years into perfecting the art of pranking and if Stiles didn't think that he could handle his pranks, then he wouldn't be thinking about him at all. Somehow, he simply knew that Derek wasn't just an opponent, he was a rival, ready to fight like a true warrior.

Starting high school was awful. Anybody who ever told you being a freshman wasn't difficult or wouldn't be that difficult, THEY WERE LYING TO YOU! It was all bad looks, judging, not fitting in, standing out – not in a good way – and worst of all, bullying! Everybody who is older than you will make fun of you, even nerds! Nerds and geeks, so that said a lot about how strong (or rather weak) they thought you were. And he knew all of that before even stepping inside of a high school.

Stiles could not wait to pull this prank off so he would be tagged as the badass he was, not a pussycat. His first seven years of primary school were awful, but in eighth grade, he decided to step up a notch and stop being weak. From playing around with everybody's lives he got into pranking and let him tell you, it was the best decision he could've made.

Scott was happy to join him, best friends since birth and all ... Well, Scott's birth. Stiles was a month older. (Yes, not that much, but you wouldn't believe how much of a difference those 34 days were.)

Speaking of which, he had to pick him up. Surely, he could find him on his favorite abandoned field practicing lacrosse like the good boy he was.

Driving while nature surrounded him was always one of Stiles' getaways. It did miracles whenever he was upset, just him and his baby on the road.

It wasn't always like that, though. At the beginning, she was just a black flag, a reminder of his deceased mother. But later, she turned into more - the last connection he had with her and he had to be stupid to let go of someone so precious.

Pulling his shit together and forgetting about sadness completely, Stiles parked his jeep on the side of the road. He yelled out to Scott so he'd know he had arrived.

"Scotty, old friend! Haven't seen you in ages!"

Scott looked at Stiles bewildered as if he'd fallen from another planet, making his way toward him.

"We saw each other yesterday! Let me rephrase that, we saw each other less than 9 hours ago!"

"Like I said, ages!" Stiles remained purposely oblivious of the point Scott was trying to make.

At that, Scott just rolled his eyes, already used to Stiles' ridiculous logic. He went into the car, putting his stuff in the back as Stiles started driving.

"So tell me, why exactly are we going to school so early?"

"We have to introduce ourselves," was the only answer Scott could get as if it were that simple.

"No shit, Sherlock! I know you well enough to tell just by looking at you what you're planning. What I meant was, what kind?"

Stiles wiggled his eyebrows and had this smirk on like he was planning to murder and Scott wasn't 100% sure that he didn't have that in mind, no matter being best friends.

"The dangerous kind," voice low and raspy before Stiles burst into honest laughing. "Relax, I ain't gonna kill anyone! ... _hopefully_ ... "

"That makes me feel a whole lot better, knowing that you don't intend to send us to prison on purpose! No, but seriously, what's up? You haven't told me what's up. The only thing that you have said is that you plan to continue, but nothing else," Scott said almost pouting and judgemental.

Stiles could practically hear the unspoken sentence: _'I thought you trusted me.'_ Now you try to be secretive after that while your best friend gives you the puppy look with his cute brown eyes ... "Fine."

"We have a prank war ahead of us. I've picked out a candidate, we just need to check his compatibility," Stiles admitted. "But I can do that by myself, so while I'm setting it up, why don't you install a recorder under the bench beside the school? I hear there are a lot of interesting talks happening around it."

Yet, somehow, in an unexplainable way, out of all that, Scott got: "I want to stalk Lydia Martin."

So, the rest of the way was Scott talking and Stiles objecting that "No, Scott, I don't think she'll notice me ... Yes, Scott, I do know her boyfriend is a rich snob and for some alien reason, she loves him ... No, Scott, I won't get in trouble with them ... Yes, Scott, I will forget about her and help you find a girlfriend instead ... No, Scott, I'm not just saying that, I do mean it ... No, Scott, I won't go behind your back and do the exact opposite of what we had just agreed on ... " etcetera, etcetera.

Sometimes, Stiles wasn't able to understand why his best friend acted more like a mother than a father. Either way, he was always like a parent toward him, unfortunately. And we all know being stuck in a car with a parent is the absolutely worst thing that could ever happen because they tend to make the most annoying questions to which you must give answers to or they'll ask even more.

"We're here!" Stiles screamed enthusiastically. 'Finally,' was silently added in his mind.

He parked his car and ran inside. As he had expected, it was already full, but no Derek around to be found. He waited until Scott caught up with him and then they went to their lockers, which were next to each other, naturally. Stiles gave him the equipment and sent him on his way, but for himself, he took the thing he created.

Long, thin, square white water balloons, filled with a color of his liking. He had done so many at once that he didn't even remember which color was inside of each. Every single one of them was a surprise! But they were his favorites because they weren't visible, but they were effective as hell. They had about one liter of paint inside of them and all you had to do was set them on a spiky thingie that disguise its sharpness until you pressed a button and then the liquid came crashing down upon whoever was unlucky enough to stand beneath.

Today, that would be Mr. Wicklear.

It was quite easy to set up, actually. He glued the spiky thingie on the door frame so it wouldn't fall off, then chose a balloon and glued that as well, but on the wall above the door. He was careful that the balloon could touch the spikes once they appeared, or else it wouldn't work.

And that is exactly what he did in Derek's classroom (he may or may not have _borrowed_ his schedule from the principal's office ... In his defense, he gave it back, so it's not stealing ... Also, nothing personal, Mrs. Revelly).

Stiles did get quite the looks while he was setting everything up. Only one guy didn't mind being an idiot in his classmates' eyes, so he asked and quoting: who the fuck was he, and more importantly, what for the Love of God was he doing in their classroom.

And kids, do not say something so funny to someone who is balancing himself on a chair. Luckily, Stiles' clumsiness gave him enough experience in acrobatics, so he didn't fall off. He did, however, fall to the ground, laughing. While he was calming down, Scott came and they (mostly Scott, since Stiles was barely able to breathe) decided that Stiles was in no shape to climb a chair, so Scott set up while Stiles explained.

"Come, my children. Story time has come upon us."

Do not ask why they sat down and listened, just go with it.

"I, your hero, have always been a clever being. And the guy behind me would have no other choice but become (at least a bit) clever if he wanted to keep up with me and be my friend. Now, I'm sure you know an acquaintance of ours, Derek Wicklear?"

... Ignoring the scared faces and surprised ones ...

"He is in this class and as soon as he comes inside, we are going to be at war with him, thus the prank and all the preparations and such. Any questions?" Stiles asked like the good teacher he was, but Scott butted in. "No? Good, 'cause he's here."

They hadn't noticed when the others had hidden, but when they turned around, nobody was in the 5-foot radius of them.

Stiles' enthusiasm was getting stronger by the jiffy and the waiting was killing him! Then he saw a dark figure coming closer to the door and as he held the button to the ST (spiky thingie), he forgot to breathe, the time had stopped and everything stood still. It was fate, waiting to be fulfilled. He heard Scott's whisper: "Time to write history."

As the door started opening, he clicked the button and it came to life, his dream became reality.

Sort of.

It did let him mouth open, so that did count. However, he did not expect Wicklear to be dry as a desert. And when he saw the look on Derek's face, he wanted to laugh. And when he asked who was at fault, Stiles only managed to say: "That, good sir would be me," before he did burst into laughter. And a funny thing about Sciles (yes, Stiles named their friendship, deal with it!), when Stiles laughs, Scott laughs. It's how the Universe works, people!

But boy, oh boy, Derek didn't find the look on his own face funny at all. Man, why didn't Stiles declare a prank war on Wicklear a long time ago? He couldn't remember the last time he laughed so hard in his entire life!

They somehow managed to survive 5 minutes without dying out of laughter, and as soon as he and Scott stumbled out of the now his favorite classroom barely containing themselves not to cackle.

But do not ask Stiles what he had said during their conversation nor what was said to him. He did not remember a thing! He was so focused to stay serious to at least some degree that his brain wasn't able to comprehend any information that his ears had collected. That and he had the memory of a goldfish.

It was truly hard to ask, but what must be done, must be done. "Scott, what happened in there?"

"You're kidding, right?"

Shaking his head, Stiles was dead serious.

"Well, he survived the prank with excellence and expertise. Then we were laughing so hard that, and I swear this is not a joke, I could see steam coming out of his beat red head. He was pissed! Also, we ignored him and thought about his family positions ... Then you called him the family pet and now we're here."

Stiles grabbed his head as it all came back to him.

* * *

 _"Funny." He said the one word that served as a trigger for their laughter. Who put the prank up was the next question that followed by a serious death glare,_ traveling _from one to the other._

 _He asked again, this time practically each word being a new sentence. "Who put the prank up?" Stiles stepped forward and took credit for his work. "That, good sir, would be me. Name's Stilinski, but call me Stiles," he said and bowed. And he discovered a new hobby._

 _Annoying Derek Wicklear. He should join a club, he's pretty damn good at that._

 _"Oh, cute. Some papa and mama's boy thinks he knows how to prank."_

 _Wicklear really shouldn't give him such openings. It's as if he wanted to be made fun of. "Sorry. Didn't picture you as a mama's boy. What do you think, Scott?"_

 _That would be a perfect way to include your partner in_ crime _if he said so himself, thank you very much._

 _"No, definitely not. How about that cute little obedient brother?"_

 _New facebook status,_ #ProudOfMyBFF _, hell yeah, that was the perfect opening, Scottie boy._

 _"Nah, he ain't cute, neither is little the term I'd use, not to mention the obedient part. Maybe a nephew kinda guy?" Stiles chatted as another_ opportunity _to make Derek angrier appeared. Ignoring him._

 _Scott shrugged. "Nah ... Just doesn't ..._ Feel _right, ya know," he said and Stiles could not agree more. With the corner of his eye, he saw Wicklear hitting his foot on the ground as he and Scott blabbered louder and louder._

 _They were apparently better than Stiles had thought because they made Derek_ growl _! And he growled loud! And all it took was a minute of rambling!_

 _"Listen to me, little brats," Derek began spitting out the words. "I don't care about your names, don't care what you are. What I do care about is your wannabe pranking. I'm the top dog here, not you. So, take this as a warning. Next time you decide to play a trick on me, you will live a long and painful death."_

'Come on! What did I say about giving us such openings, Wicklear?! Don't make it so easy to make fun of you, damn it!' _Stiles thought to himself as he looked at Scott to_ fulfill _his part, serious again until he got the point and they started laughing again._

"That's what he was! I can't believe we didn't think of it!" Scott spoke of it like it was the most obvious thing. Again, #ProudOfMyBFF!

 _Stiles just needed to add the cherry on top. "He's the family pet! Ugh, finally figured it out!" Stiles said and let out a groan before resting his arm on Scott's shoulder before walking away and asking him what happened._

* * *

Was it too late to go back and apologize?

"We called him a dog, didn't we? Ha ha, we are gonna die! Yaaay! Well, he called himself a dog, we just used a ward with more meanings. Swill, we are gonna die!" Stiles was not looking forward to Wicklear's come back prank ...

Scott just stood there, looking sad for Stiles. Last time he checked, they were together in this! This probably wasn't the best time to brainstorm and make a list named _'The worst thing(s) that could happen'_ , yet somehow that's what Stiles did.

1\. Death  
2\. Torture  
3\. Injury  
4\. Send him to a hospital for life  
5\. Fear&suspense until he loses it  
6\. (this one was most likely to come true) All of the above!

Nope, not helping. "Stiles, breathe!"

Oh, he forgot to breathe. That happened sometimes, ignore him. He was too busy worrying about his life to care about what Scott was saying. However, he did manage to get back once he had a glance on the clock. One thing he's scared of more than Derek's plans.

Being late to literature class.

That teacher is nasty, nasty he tells ya! He's heard rumors. They speak of a monster, one that can turn you into stone with just a glare, body mimic so sharp it cuts all skin, eyes so deep and soulless, you lose your own soul inside, and mouth so big it can eat you alive!

Of course, he knew that wasn't true ... Those were just fairytales ... Lies ... _Probably_ ... Look, he wasn't going to risk it!

They entered the deafening classroom. There were only three seats available. They sat down and because the classroom was so quiet, they weren't sure if they were allowed to talk, so to be on the safe side, they didn't.

That's when Stiles remembered that he asked Scott to set up the microphone on the bench which was perfectly visible from the windows in here.

He took a piece of paper from his notebook and wrote down _'Take ur headphones out'_ and passed it on to Scott. In return, he got a thumbs up before he did as Stiles said. He took them out of his backpack and started listening, carefully setting them so they weren't visible.

There was a person (a pretty girl, FYI) sitting on the bench outside, talking over the phone. Scott seemed too interested in what was happening outside to notice that the bell rang. If Stiles hadn't notified him, he could have died.

Not even 5 minutes into the lesson, the same girl entered. According to her words, she was new to this city, she and her family just moved here. But that wasn't the interesting thing. She sat down on the desk behind Scott's, and as soon as she did, he turned around and gave her his pen.

 _'That son of a bitch!'_

Especially since after class, they found themselves talking in Stiles' hearing zone and he overheard – not eavesdropped – her asking him how did he know she needed a pen. But that's still not the interesting part. After Scott's stupid answer, Lydia Martin – yes, you read it right, _Lydia Martin_ – talked to them. It was just so she could drag Alison away, but she greeted him!

Compared to that, the rest of his day was just a silent, black and white film. Class, lacrosse audition, home, movies, pizza and coca cola, finding out he had to see the school counselor every day ... Oh, did he mention his father was so kind as to arrange a meeting with Ms. Morrell, their school's counselor, on a daily basis? Yeah, that just made his day!

The only good part after that was falling asleep and dreaming of Lydia ... Sooner or later, she'll realize that her sorry-excuse-of-a boyfriend is the world's biggest jerk and when she does, Stiles will be there and she will look at the scrawny mess and see a real man behind it. Until then, he always had her in his dreams ...

 **Author's blabber:**

Wow, this took longer to write than expected. Thank God I was sick and had to stay home for a few days so I could write this. I actually intended to write a much shorter chapter (1500 words, 2000 tops), but then this happened... Also, I am finally getting feedbacks! Something I did not know, writing how many words a chapter has is creepy. Also, 4000 words is too much. Good to know, guys! I am so happy you finally started speaking about this story! I feel so guilty that I made you wait for so long. I did try to update faster but school's a pain and driving me insane with studies! I barely survived the last month, 3 exams a day... Not that much, but I didn't study from the beginning so I had to learn stuff in a few days what we took in 4 months... I admit, not my best ideas. Right now, it's calmer and I've caught up, so hopefully, you won't have to wait 2 months for a new chapter.


	4. 4 Third time's a charm

**Chapter 4**

 **story4you**

 **Third time's a charm**

For some reason, it was more difficult waking up that morning than on any other. The reason behind that was most likely the fact that Stiles had an appointment before school with Ms. Morrell, of whom he hadn't heard up until last night when his father brought up the whole 'you-are-going-to-see-the school-counselor-every day-for-the-rest-of-the-school-year' thing.

So yes, he got dragged to school by Scott. Well, not literally. Stiles still drove because he was still responsible for their transport since Scott hasn't got his driving's license yet. Ah, the burden of being older.

The other reason for his disability to wake up could be that he didn't fall asleep until late hours that night. "Why," you ask? Derek stupid Wicklear! Whenever Stiles came even close to falling asleep, his ugly face popped up and then his awful voice, saying: "I will get revenge," preventing him from going into the dreamland.

What an evil bastard, huh?

Who apparently hangs out with even bigger idiots than himself. He saw Derek together with Danny and Jackson – and that is a sentence he never thought he would make, but once again, life is full of surprises.

All Stiles wanted was to put his books in his locker and go to see the stupid counselor and get that done. But that would be asking for too much now, wouldn't it? So instead, some annoying couple had decided the best place for taking their clothes off would be the front of his locker. That is the definition of fun, isn't it? Making. Him. Miserable.

Honestly said, Stiles was ready to do anything to get to his locker, even breaking up whatever was happening, no matter how disgusting it was, thus he started cursing in his secret language that most people would deem stupid. And without even noticing, it was Scott who got in the way of his outburst and was just taking every word Stiles threw out of his system. Serves him right for yesterday!

However, he didn't understand why there was rain inside. Looking up, he saw that was not the case. Also, it was weird how little Stiles noticed in his surroundings. For instance, the two students who were passionately making out had stopped, but not because of the teachers that were apparently trying to stop it for some time now.

"All it took was a bit of water," they'd noticed. And "a bit" was surely meant as a lot! They were soaked! Water was dripping out of their hair and clothes. He couldn't care less about the teachers being wet, on the contrary, he would've laughed under normal circumstances. But he was, too! He wanted to go back to his outburst, but then he saw the person at fault smiling and laughing at his suffering. You guessed him, Wicklear.

Forget about secret language, screw that! At first, he thought this incident was just that, an incident. And finding out this is what Derek's revenge prank looked like was an insult! And to think, he was so sure he had finally found a rival. Such a disappointment, he turned out to be.

Stiles was pissed! He walked over to Derek, ready to kill him and if it came to that, he would. It was at times like that when he was glad he learned Russian. It has become almost a natural thing for him to do. Thought in English and Russian came out - despite how weird that sounded, it was not.

Как ты думаешь, что ты делаешь?! Если ты думаешь, что это можно назвать шалостью, то ты точно самый отвратительный человек, которого я знаю! Ты тупой, страшный, мерзкий, мне жаль, что я прежде звал тебя лишь задирой! Я не знаю, почему я раньше думал, что у тебя есть потенциал чтобы быть хоть чуть-чуть добрее! Меня тошнит от тебя, ты отсталый, невежественный и ненормальный.

Stiles was quite proud of his insult, in his opinion. Of course, Wicklear was having fun seeing him miserable and soaked! That was probably the whole reason why he'd paid Sydney and some nerd to make out in front of his locker. Oh, yes, now he saw through his plan! That devious devil thought that he could get rid of Stiles by making him believe he didn't know how to prank. Well, he thought wrong!

And he totally forgot about Ms. Morrell – who was standing beside the fire alarm and looking at him as though he was her prey. She had high heels on, so her walk was even more determined – also scary – as she made her way towards him and grabbed him by his collar. Derek was ready to laugh, but the joke's on him because Ms. Morrell did the same to him.

She dragged them both to her office and sat them down before she sat as well. Oh dear, they were in serious trouble, weren't they?

"Miss, we can explain everything that you want us to, just tell us what we did."

'So we can come up with an excuse,' Stiles wanted to add but decided to stay with only the first part instead.

"No need, I don't need an explanation," she said as she looked over to Derek. "Well, he's zoned out and can't hear us, so let me tell you something. You are the only one that could make him laugh from the heart. And you did that in one day. Just think how much you could help him, all you have to do is be around him." Stiles could hear the emotions in her voice, she was pleading.

He wasn't able to speak. That has never happened to him before. His mouth couldn't form what he wanted to say. A simple word, yet so efficient. He couldn't form it. He has put up a tough facade he wasn't going to change. So instead, he hit Derek to get him to respond.

And did what he knew best – pretended nothing was said.

"For god's sake, idiot! She thinks us 'spending time' will be a help to your issues. Snap out of it and object, because I won't be in the same room as you, not for even a second more than necessary, which is none at all!"

A teenager shouldn't be so good at acting, but he was. And he didn't care for Wicklear, neither did Derek care for Stiles. Here is your proof, said by Derek right after he turned to Stiles and gave him a death glare.

"Shut up, Stiles!"

Oh, you could feel the love in the air! Good, he was getting back to himself. Next proof, said by Stiles in a tone that was just right.

"Oh, so the famous Derek Wicklear finally found words and they direct toward me. What an honor! You think that just because you have expert ditch-prank abilities, you are special? You are not! And be happy I'm not looking through your files because I've got a feeling interesting things hide in them."

Stiles wanted to say more, he wanted to fight, but before he got the chance to do anything, Ms. Morrell quickly shut him up by yelling "Enough! I'll see you both together after class. Now go, you've missed the first period, you are not missing the second as well."

Fine, he could deal with going to class if he didn't have to see Derek. He took a few deep breaths on the way out so he wouldn't switch to Russian. Before you jump to conclusions, you should know that he wasn't angry. He was just agitated that Wicklear avoided joining forces, and he was about to let him know just that.

"Next time someone suggests we spend unnecessary time together, how about if you give me a hand and refuse?! It's bad enough they're making me go to that stupid witch, it will not be with you. Agreed?"

Sometimes Stiles wonders why it even comes to his mind that his life could be simple. No, his life is so far from simple, it could measure up to Wicklear's stubbornness! And let him tell you, Wicklear is stubborn.

"Ya know what? I don't want to deal with you right now. Goodbye."

Can you believe what he said? Unbelievable! And he had luck on his side as well because before Stiles could defend himself and convince him, the bell rang. He only managed to yell "This isn't over yet!" before Scott grabbed him and made him walk to chemistry class.

From the way, in which Scott was holding his body, he just knew there was a lesson in a speech somewhere in his near future. One more time, he was right. And worst of all, it was one of those rhetorical lectures where you weren't allowed to say anything.

"The fuck were you thinking, Stiles? Oh, that's right. You weren't thinking! Because if you were, you wouldn't do such nonsense as to mess with a criminal! And you missed literature class! Are you trying to get yourself killed? If so, I would rather you didn't include me in your suicide squad, OK?"

Yes, Scott didn't seem the kind of guy to ask for an explanation. But he was still Stiles' best friend, and it was because he was worried that the lecture even took place. Stiles was getting better and better at telling how people felt. That is why he guessed that Scott wasn't trying to be selfish. He just wanted to know the reason behind Stiles' radical behavior. That is why the lecture didn't stop but continued instead.

"Unlike you, I care about my life! And you may not, but I care about your life! So, I _beg_ of you, explain to me why you have to visit the school counselor. And why were you just there with Derek?"

 _'Where should I begin?'_ Stiles wanted to say. _'You see, my father finally realized my pranks weren't only a phase, so he thought I needed_ "professional guidance," _whatever that means. Also, he doesn't know that I have gotten over my mother's death. But I have. It took me three years of nightmares and panic attacks, but I have gotten over it. But he thinks otherwise only because he was too busy drinking and working to notice that. That's why I have to go to the school counselor.'_

But instead of saying what was really on his mind, he only told one small bit of what he was thinking.

"Oh that. My dad thinks I need professional guidance or something. As for Derek ..."

 _'He is impossible to comprehend! He makes my blood boil with rage just because I can't understand what he's thinking and that drives me_ insane _! He acts soulless, yet his beautiful multicolored eyes say otherwise. I can see the pain and hurt in them, two emotions he tries so hard to suppress. How come I'm the only one who hears his cry of distress?'_

"... Ms. Morrell just dragged him along for some reason. Also, you didn't need to prepare such a speech. I would've told you if you had just asked, drama queen," Stiles joked with Scott.

And Scott believed every word, so he punched him in the shoulder playfully and said "Just sit down, will you? You know how Mr. Harris gets when he has to wait to start his class."

"You are right about that, Mr. McCall," Mr. Harrison said from behind Scott. That made Scott turn around and - although he wouldn't admit - frightened him, too.

"How about you take you own advice and sit down? I would like to start teaching you and your classmates chemistry 101 or as I like to call it, chemistry for dummies."

There was laughter from their classmates. It was easy to decide they didn't need more attention on them, so they sat down. Chemistry class was just that, chemistry. No matter what you do, it will always be boring. Stiles couldn't wait for it to be over because, after that, lunch followed.

He wanted to get away from being with Derek as much as he could and to do that, he had to think of something that would get him permission to skip the counselor meeting thing. He'll have lacrosse practice after school from tomorrow onward, but today, he'll have no choice except go. But if lacrosse practice were to get canceled, he would need to find Derek an occupation.

And it will be much harder to do so in the middle of the year than now while he still had the chance to find him something that Derek would enjoy doing. Not that he cared whether or not Derek was having fun, but Stiles needed to be guaranteed that Derek would be busy and unable to join them if that happened.

This time, he did go through Derek's online files and didn't back off just because his father said that was "wrong and illegal." What could he possibly know about the law? It wasn't like he was a cop or anything.

But he was. A sheriff, to be exact. And Stiles would die if his father found out, so hush, child, he needn't know what happens in Stiles' free time.

However, since you must know, he searched through Derek's school files and saw that he loved to play basketball. So he did a little bit of digging and discovered he was pretty good at it. Like, seriously good. He didn't understand why he stopped, to be truthful. OK, they may have been files from a game that had happened seven years ago, but that didn't matter.

When you are that good at something, you can't give it up so easily like he did, especially if it is something you love doing.

Lucky for the both of them, the basketball coach, Mr. Nolan owed him one because he helped his wife once during summer vacation. He didn't even know that it was his wife, he was just trying to help a poor pregnant woman - whose stomach wouldn't be so large for long - get her groceries to her car, but whatever.

During lunch, he set his plan into action. He went to Mr. Nolan and asked him nicely if he would be so kind as to let Derek audition for the basketball team. It took a little convincing, but he managed to get him to agree on his plan, which was to have basketball in gym class that would serve as Derek's late tryout. He wasn't so happy at first, but when he heard how good he ought to be, he didn't even hesitate.

As soon as they had agreed, he rushed off to lunch. If it were anybody else, Stiles would ask the person before proceeding with his plan. But that's Derek we're talking about here. There is no way in hell he would've let him do as he wished. More likely than not, he would've done everything in his power not to let Stiles do what he had just done.

But enough about that, he was starving! He took the one food nobody could make it taste bad - pizza. A soon as he paid, he searched the cafeteria briefly before deciding to sit on Derek's table. They were at war, not in a gladiator arena. Of course, he asked if he could sit there, he wasn't an animal. But it was still fun seeing Derek's expression when he did. Stiles did say he should create a club called "Annoying Derek Wicklear."

Also, something that needs mentioning. Wherever Stiles goes, Scott does, too. And since Derek had Jackson and Danny on his table, Lydia sat there along with the whole lacrosse team. Fun. He concluded it was in his best interest to ignore everybody else and just say what he had to say to Derek and get as far away from them as he could.

Derek was already raging, and all Stiles said was: "You don't mind if we sit here, do you? Great. Derek, we need to talk. Don't worry, nothing serious, just wanted you to know that I have a plan. The only thing you'll need to do is sit quietly and do nothing. Agreed?"

Ok, maybe that wasn't exactly saving with words, but who cares?!

Derek refused to answer, so Stiles thought he needed a push. Or more specifically, a boot.

"Agreed?" Stiles repeated, for some reason thinking that Derek would agree. He should have known it wasn't going to be that easy.

"No, you'll follow me. The end," and then Derek walked away.

Stiles was too busy dealing with Derek to notice before, but everybody on that table was watching him. Their eyes were on him when he punched the table so hard everything on it jumped. But he couldn't care less. Danny, Jackson, Lydia, Alison, Scott and all of the lacrosse players were staring. He just wanted to get away from society as soon as possible.

That is why not long after, he found himself walking in the preserve. Who would care if he ditched a few meaningless lessons anyway?

He walked for quite some time, but little did he know his best friend was following him. At first, he only heard leaves rustling, which he thought was the wind before he realized that there wasn't even a breeze.

He kept moving, although his guard was put up.

Sooner than expected, branches cracked behind him. Now he was sure it wasn't only his imagination playing tricks on him. Stiles saw a figure hiding behind a tree from the corner of his eye. Apparently, whoever that was, decided he/she was busted and decided to show. You can imagine the surprise in Stiles when he saw the person standing in front of him was Scott.

"Hi."

Stiles stared at Scott.

"You must be wondering what I'm doing here, right?"

"Not really," Stiles said before Scott could continue. "I'm gonna go now. If you want to follow me, feel free to do so without lurking in the shadows."

And Scott did just that. They walked in complete silence for about half an hour until the running water was beneath their feet. They spent some time looking at the river flow, each lost in their thoughts.

"Stiles-" "Scott-" both friends began simultaneously. They smiled. Some things just never change.

"How much are you willing to bet your dad and my mom are gonna join forces to punish us for already skipping class on the second day of school?" Stiles laughed at Scott's (successful) attempt to make him speak. "That's not even a question. We're doomed, brother. I suggest that you buy yourself a gravestone and say your goodbyes while you still can."

They both laughed, event though he wasn't lying. There was no way in hell that a sheriff would allow anyone to skip class, what else his son. So, he expected to be grounded for about a month, no phone or laptop for an undetermined time, no seeing Scott outside of school for the rest of his high school life, etc.

"But let's be optimistic, shall we? At least we're in this together, yeah?" The high-pitched voice, hmm, that must have sounded reassuring from Stiles' side.

"Yeah."

"Hey, uh ... What time is it? I need to be at Morrell's at 1."

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?" Why does Scott look worried, almost scared? A healthy combination of the two, he'd almost say ... Not a good sign. "It's half past one!" Didn't he tell you? Never a good sign.

"Run!"

Too bad coach Finnstock couldn't see him run this fast. He would most likely let him play more often if he did. Although once he thought about it, the bench was alright. He didn't feel the need to exchange it for the loss of breath and a hurting body. No thanks, he'd rather pass.

Sprinting into Ms. Morrell's office faster than he'd ever run in his life, he managed to get his point across whilst letting out quick breaths and – obviously – being sarcastic. (It's Stiles we're talking about here, you should have expected that.)

(Also, note to self: kill Scott for lying it was half past when it was only one.)

"O, I sincerely apologize for bursting in like this. I just wanted to warn Derek that basketball practice has already started and he absolutely must be there."

 _'After I spent quite some time trying to convince coach Nolan to let him audition, he'd better show up. That hard work will not go to waste, not if I have a say in it.'_

"You see, he's told me he's quite forgetful, so he asked me to remind him, didn't you, Derek?"

If Derek decided to be a stubborn ass and object (again), he was going to kill that bastard! Stiles wasn't going to risk everything so he could just ruin it. Couldn't he see that they were both victims? But unlike _someone_ , Stiles at least tried to fight.

But what Derek did next made him want to barf. He was close, too. Stiles' insides were turning, making him feel as sick as a dog.

"Thanks for reminding me," Derek said and – wait for it – smiled.

Correction, Derek smirked. He smirked! Do you realize how disgusting that is? Just thinking about it makes his stomach turn. He left the room and went as far away from Derek as he could. So he went to the stadium where they had lacrosse practice – at which he was _very_ late.

He doesn't want to speak about the things coach Finstock made him do. But everything was a-ok when he saw Jackson's surprised/shocked/angry face. Why use all of those adjectives? Because Scott was good at lacrosse, something not even Stiles knew. All of that late night practice must've paid out because he hit every single time he shot. Imagine the surprise on Jackson's face when he found out a freshman was better at lacrosse than him.

One word.

Priceless

Who would have thought that high school could be this much fun?

 **AN:** Is it ok to say that I didn't expect this chapter to turn out this way?

First of all, I am trying to write shorter chapters but it's somewhat difficult for me. (Apparently, I overcomplicate things... Whops? *shrug*)

That and I was so sure I would update faster! Honestly, I had this chapter written half way through not even a week after chapter 3 was published, but then things happened... They always do... *sigh* Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you did/-n't, feel free to review.

But I wasn't alone in this chapter. I'd like to thank chumbardd (username) for helping me translate (more like translated for me xD) into Russian. (thanks again in case you're reading this)

Just wanted to let you, my lovely reader, know that wasn't google translate or my _very_ poor Russian. xD I don't know what it is, I can understand it just fine, but writing? Nope. Aaaanyhow...

Bye and have a lovely week _

 **UPDATE:** Thanks to Snowbeardolphin for reminding me that I forgot to put the translation in *face palm* Anyway... Here it is: "What do you think you are doing?! If you think that could be called a prank, you would officially be the dumbest person I know! You are stupid, ugly, disgusting, a sorry excuse for a badass! I don't know why I ever thought you had any potential for being anywhere near good enough! You make me sick, you retarded ignorant imbecile."


	5. 5 Say what now? (Part 1)

**Chapter 5**

 **story4you  
 _Say what now?_ (part 1)**

The week continued with brighter colors. Because of basketball, Derek was feeling happier, his imagination was running wild, and his dreams looked a bit like: "Dig a hole in front of the main entrance and fill it with water because I would like to see people wet." That might have had something to do with the fact that Mrs. Revelly decided to make the school _'more green'_ and ordered to have a grassy path, going from the parking lot to all the doors of their school.

Funny thing, he obeyed his dreams on Friday.

Of course, that meant he had to deal with Danny and Jackson complaining in the middle of the night. After all, a hole, big enough for a person to stand in, is not that easy to dig out.

"Remind me again, how exactly did you come up with this ... _torture_?" Jackson, who else, asked between shoves.

"I dreamed," Derek said in return as he got back to work. Jackson huffed but shoved nevertheless. Silence fell over just in time to hear Danny's soft whispers as he sang I dreamed a dream. He must have thought they couldn't hear him, but they most definitely could. Danny wasn't bad, but let's just say it was a wise choice to sing quietly.

It took them three hours to shovel a hole, two more to fill it with water and camouflage it. When they had finished, Derek saw it was 05:37. They had about two hours left, which wasn't nearly enough to go back to their houses, shower, and be on time for their first class. Derek had thought in advance their preparation could take too long, so he advised them to bring along all their school books and spare clothes.

They showered in the locker rooms and hit a café near the school for breakfast, fatigued and sleep-deprived. Neither was too fond of making small talk after the night behind them, so they ate in silence. Derek had paid for their meal as thanks; they weren't obliged to help him, but they did nonetheless. It was the least he could do.

Derek was so exhausted he could barely walk. The only thing that kept him going was the thrill to see his, Jackson's and Danny's effort wasn't for nothing. As they dozed off, sitting on a bench in front of the building, waiting for the first victims to come by, Derek remembered something.

"Uh, guys? We forgot something important."

"How important?" Danny asked carefully, an understandable reaction, might he add. They should all be terrified; Derek certainly was.

"Uh, crucial? Tell me, who comes first through the main entrance on most days or, at the very least, unlocks it?"

Derek watched as Danny and Jackson's eyes widened with fear when they saw a woman in a flowery skirt and white shirt getting swallowed by the ground. Quite literally.

"The principal," Jackson whispered as they all got up and ran before she could climb out and search for the culprits. At first, they sprinted to get away, but as they got further from the scene, they began slowing down and jogged for fun. It was just the thing they needed to wake them up. When they had walked back, the school was already filling with students.

Jackson directed Danny's and his attention to the side entrance, a crowd of students gathered around it. They moved closer and saw a student helping Ms. Morrell get out of a hole. Huh. She looked intent despite her wet clothes, and who was Derek to let such an amazing opportunity slip?

Making sure to use as much sarcasm as he could, Derek grabbed Morrell by her hips and led her inside. "Oh, are you ok? What happened? Come, let's go to your office, shall we? I do hope you have spare clothes stored."

"Derek, one of us knows what you're playing at here."

 _'Oh, is that so? I doubt it. But it wouldn't be fun if I told you, would it now?'_

"Miss, I am merely helping you. Is there something wrong with that?"

She rolled her eyes. For an adult, she did that a lot. Wasn't she supposed to be a professional counselor or something? Rolling eyes doesn't make it seem that way.

"I wouldn't need help if it weren't for you. You realize that, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

As it had turned out, Ms. Morrell did have extra clothes in her office. When she saw Derek's look of amazement, she began explaining. "It was your former counselor. When I took over her job, we had met, and she told me about the students, so when it was time to discuss you, she had a lot to say. Most of it was warnings."

Derek wasn't surprised in the slightest. What came of a shock, though, was when Morrell mocked her. Derek could swear she was just a five year old, stuck in an adult's body. Her impression was very exact. You could not not laugh; it was scientifically impossible. She reminded him of a teenager, repeating her parents' orders.

"Always watch out for this and this /.../ remember! /.../ and don't forget! /.../ _Blah blah_. No wonder you did all those things to her! I probably would've done the same."

It's amazing to learn you were right all along.

"Oh, that's probably her face. She has a very prankable face," Derek explained.

"Huh, it makes perfect sense once you think about it. Now, I have to kick you out of my office; I need to get dressed, and you need to get to class. I'll see you after your lessons, though."

"But I have basketball, Miss. Every day after school, so I won't be able to come to our daily meetings anymore."

Morrell just mused at Derek's objection.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll make time. You have earned yourself detention, mister."

"But I didn't dig the hole! It's not my fault your clothes are wet."

Morrell was enjoying herself while Derek tried to escape his prison. How the world could be so cruel will stay a mystery to him.

"Maybe, but you are responsible that the principal had to wring out her clothes."

Sometimes, one must accept defeat. It does not mean you need to be happy about it. "I'll see you after class," Derek grumbled under his breath and left.

And so, the day dragged by, more than usual because of the amount of sleep he got, or rather, didn't get. But when he entered the classroom where his fellow delinquents would serve detention, he received an unpleasant surprise.

Stilinski.

"Ah, there he is! Derek Hale, the guy who stole my prank."

Raising an eyebrow, Derek showed he did not know what was going through Stiles' head.

"You stole my idea! I was the one who thought of the bathtube, worked hard to make it, too. But here I come to school to see that someone already beat me to it!"

"Bathtube?" That was utterly stupid. Who even thought of that word?

The answer Derek received was: "It's how I named the prank."

 _Oh_. Stiles was one of those. The disbelief must've been visible on Derek's face because Stiles asked: "What?"

"Who in their right mind names their pranks?"

"Who doesn't?"

"See, this is where your amateurism shows. Only rookies name their pranks. A beginner's mistake. Don't worry, you'll learn in time."

Stiles' mouth gaped open as he struggled to find words. A sight that comes once in a lifetime and goes away instantly. They began bickering like god-damned three-year-olds.

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"It's not."

"It is."

 _ **Timeskip:**_ _10 minutes of "it is"es and "it's not"s_

"Hey, how long have you been sitting there?" Stiles randomly said, turning in the direction where Ms. Morrell was.

"About 15 minutes," she said, plainly as though it wasn't creepy at all.

"You have 40 minutes to go before I let you leave. You can continue your bickering; I don't mind.

Normal people would've ignored her and wouldn't say a word for the rest 40 minutes. Why couldn't Stiles be one of those people?

"Ok, where were we? Oh, yes. Stop stealing my ideas! The only reason why we're here is that you have too much free time on your hand! And don't you dare disagree because we both know that it's true, so you're not getting away with just detention. Unlike you, my dad's a cop, so I'll get even more groundation – ( _'Not a word, Stiles_! _'_ ) – than I already have while you stay one measly hour after school in a classroom and that's it out of your punishment!"

 _'If he wants me to receive punishment, then he should never stop speaking.'_

"You son of a ... You zoned out! How dare you?!"

Derek was staring at the clock as though it held the answer to all his problems.

 _'25 minutes to go ... 25 long dragging never-ending minutes.'_

"Deeereeeeeeeeeeeee –"

"What do you want now, Stiles?!"

"Geez, _someone_ woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I just wanted to ask why you aren't on your basketball training, but never mind!"

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

 _'Explaining-to-a-baby mode:_ on _.'_

"In case you didn't notice, we're in detention. And when you have detention, you can't do anything fun. Since basketball is, I can't do it. And there's this little rule that says you need to be in your seat the whole time during detainment. Have you ever heard of that, Stiles?"

Derek was so close to laughing when Stiles tsk-ed; the guy looks hilarious when he's offended.

"I know that. Don't lampoon me, you nincompoop!"

"Would it be so difficult to use words that are in the dictionary? Seriously!"

"Those are words, found in Oxford Living Dictionaries, so _ha_! I see someone's gonna fail literature class."

"You do realize knowing random words is different than having knowledge in literature, right? If you spent your free time on reading rather than memorizing, I'm sure you wouldn't be failing."

"You're the one to talk. If you spent your free time on studying rather than researching, I'm sure you wouldn't be failing."

Sighing at the stupid riposte, he divagated his eyes to Morrell who was smirking. What the actual fuck? When she saw Derek was staring at her, she shook her head.

"Derek, try not to fail, ok? Because it won't be you, that'll listen to your teachers' complaints of what a horrible student you are."

"Yeah, because you aren't doing that already."

"Stiles, shut up!"

For your information, Ms. Morrell said that, not Derek. And for the first – and most likely the last – time, Stiles' vexatious nature came in handy. She dismissed them, saying she was too tired to deal with two scoundrels.

That did not bother either of them in the slightest. Stiles and Derek escaped each other's company and continued their lives merrily. (Derek too, for a change.)

That weekend was one of Derek's best in his life. He met with the basketball team, and they played ball for 8 hours straight, taking only breaks for food. They laughed, stumbled, caught some balls with their faces but still bonded, and Derek felt more comfortable in his skin, knowing he had a place to belong. Sure, he could rely on the Wicklears, and sure, he still had his uncle and sisters, but they didn't choose him; if they had, they would have been there when _that_ happened.

They would have returned.

* * *

For a Sheriff, Stiles' dad, John Stilinski, was a very peculiar man. You'd think he would venerate the law, make the people in his life respect it. He had tried and failed miserably. His son was an excellent example.

Stiles dragged himself through the front door, unmistakably exhausted due to lacrosse. (More like two hours of stamina and strength exercises.)

HIs dad was in the kitchen, cooking healthy dinner, for a change. On most days, Stiles had to nag him about taking care of himself – and that included his eating habits.

Little did he know of the reason why he was starting now, but you don't question when life gives you lemons.

"Stiles?"

"Yes, pops?"

"Do you have anything to tell me?"

"... Not at all. Why d' you ask?" Stiles seemed calm on the outside, but there were too many thoughts running through his head to count them. Had he found out about something? Maybe about today's detention? Today's prank? Longer back?

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because I got a call from your school today and they said: "Your son has crossed all lines, Mr. Stilinski. You are obliged to come to an emergency PTA meeting on Monday – and bring that devil with you." I'm guessing _'the devil'_ is you. So I ask again, do you have anything to tell me?"

It was the first time John looked at him, rather focused on his cooking before. He would gladly lie and play dumb, but to Stiles' luck, his dad most likely knew everything already and was just giving him a chance to explain.

" _Well_... how does one start this kind of things? Seriously!"

"Stiles."

"Fine! I may have – no, _might_ have – dug a whole, 1,7 meters deep ... and filled it with water ... in which Ms. Morrell fell. _Oops_?"

It was a bad time to let Stiles' observation skills rest because his dad was in his uniform that included a gun. And he had just noticed that!

But John wasn't interested in killing his son – if he had been, Stiles would already be long dead – and worst of all, Stiles was aware of that. So whatever punishment he had in mind, it ought to be worse than death.

Seeing as he had let out a sigh – either of disappointment or fatigue, Stiles felt almost sorry for his dad. He deserved a better son.

"I don't want to deal with this so soon due to a twelve-hour night shift. So, whatever else you did – because I know there's more – it'll have to wait until Monday. Now that we got that out of the way, how about we spend some father-son time, eh?"

And they did.

They talked about what's been going on in their lives, something they couldn't because of police work. Stiles had to admit about his 4-year plan to make Lydia Martin his (although those four years have passed long ago), – and even though it was his father – he told John about the pranks and how people (ahem, mostly Derek) reacted to them. Surprisingly, his dad stopped being his dad for those minutes and was, instead, a friend.

Stiles was grateful for it.

* * *

 **AN:** I'm updating before the 21st with the actual thing (I want to update before I go on vacation) - either as an update to this chapter or another one. I wanted to write it along this one, but I feel like you've waited long enough. Sorry, as always. I rewrote this 3 times until I was _decently_ happy with how this turned out (so freaking frustrating! This is my 4th version of this chapter) ... Well, you'll hear more from me soon.

Byee guys ^_^

P.S. do feel free to review; they make me burst with creativity ;)


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